


call it a day

by hrtbnr (kiden)



Category: The Creatures | Cow Chop RPF
Genre: Fake Chop, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Missions Gone Wrong, background Brett/Lindsey if you want there to be
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-21
Updated: 2018-05-21
Packaged: 2019-05-09 20:20:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14722953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiden/pseuds/hrtbnr
Summary: With all the adrenaline gone, they’re just a bunch of tired, beaten up idiots falling asleep in a nondescript van.





	call it a day

**Author's Note:**

> i'm not actually out here trying to make anyone cry on make me cry monday tbh

Once the heat is off and it’s just miles of cold desert and an endless, clear sky in front of them, that’s always the most difficult part. When it’s just Brett driving, everything silent except for the muffled music from Jakob’s headphones. With all the adrenaline gone, they’re just a bunch of tired, beaten up idiots falling asleep in a nondescript van.  Aleks never knows what to do with himself after a bad heist. His hands are steady when he’s holding a gun but they shake afterward, and he never knows where to put them. Never knows when his heart will calm down. Never knows what to look at.

Lindsey turns in the passenger seat and Aleks watches her fingers as they move to the back of Brett’s neck, her thumb rubbing along his hairline and behind his ear.  Brett nods, only a slight tilt of his head really, like he’s answering a question, and Lindsey smiles tightly at him even though he’s not looking. It’s a little silent movie Aleks is watching between Jakob and Asher’s shoulders, slumped in the middle seats.  _  Are you okay? _ Lindsey’s fingers ask and Brett leans towards her,  _ okay enough _ .  That’s the best any of them can hope for after a heist that blows up in their faces. 

Close calls always leave them rattled.  There’s no silence deep enough, no sky clear enough, to shake it.  They just have to wait for it to dissipate on its own. Find ways to remind each other they’re all still alive and that things will feel better after they get a little sleep. 

There’s no reason for Aleks to lie to himself and say it’s not different when it’s James who almost dies.  It’d be fucked up to say aloud, although probably wouldn’t surprise anyone, but inside his own head, he has no problem admitting it.  He’s been trying to keep his eyes off James but Lindsey moves her hand from Brett’s neck to her lap and he takes it in his own, threading their fingers together while keeping his eyes on the never-changing road, and Aleks can’t help it. 

James is slumped against the side of the van with his head resting on the window, his eyes are closed too tightly to be asleep.  The night is bright enough that even in the dark the blood on his face still looks  _ red _ instead of black.  It’s still wet, so he’s still bleeding, but only a little, and it follows the drying trails from his nose and mouth, disappearing into his beard and then picking up again to slide down his neck.  He'd spit out a molar earlier after getting clocked in the face with the barrel of a rifle. Under his clothes, Aleks knows he must be bruised to shit from the beating he took. 

But there’s only a small window where James allows himself to complain, and they left it behind them, in the time between when Brett pulled him up off the floor and Aleks shot every one of those motherfuckers who hurt him in the head.

Aleks is glad they’re dead but he sort of wishes they weren’t.  Just so he could hurt them more, draw it out, make it unbearable.  Quick deaths were more than they deserved.

They’d gotten out of there with the money and the guns, but there’s always something left behind when one of them gets fucked up. It’s a hazard of the job he’ll never get used to, not really, not when the one hurt is someone other than himself.  Especially when it’s James. 

The backseat of the van is big, so Aleks scoots closer and turns to slip his left hand inside James’ half-zipped hoodie.  Under his hand James’ breath hitches but he doesn’t push Aleks away or make a sound as he starts checking his ribs. This can’t wait until they get to the safe house, but only because  _ Aleks _ can’t wait that long to make sure he’s really alright.  He needs to know, has to feel James okay under his hands, and then maybe he’ll calm down.  Maybe his heart will slow. 

Satisfied that none of James’ ribs are broken or bruised, Aleks pulls away to rummage on the floor of the van for one of the dozen or so water bottles James always leaves around.  He finds one and takes off his hoodie, wetting the cuff of a sleeve, and when he looks up James’ eyes are open, watching him. There’s no real pain in his expression; he just looks tired and  _ fond,  _ and he shakes his head. 

Aleks shrugs and rolls his eyes,  _ it’s just a hoodie,  _ and moves closer to carefully wipe some of the blood off of James’ face.  James lets him, and although Aleks is focusing on cleaning him up, he can feel the way he’s being watched.  He’s good at knowing what James is thinking at any given moment, and just  _ knowing  _ it, without having to be told, makes him flush and suddenly uncoordinated, pressing a little too hard on the bridge of James’ nose and making him hiss.  It ends in a raspy wheeze, a little pain but more laughter, and Aleks ducks his shaking head, biting hard at his lip to keep his own laugh inside. 

Just to drive it home, James brings his hand to Aleks’ face, cups his heated cheek and rubs his thumb under his left eye until Aleks looks up.  In James’ silence, the way he’s looking at him, Aleks can hear  _ you’re an idiot, thank you, thank you, you fucking dickhead.  _

Aleks drops his hoodie, because he’s as clean as possible until they can get him to a shower, and shudders out a breath when James moves so he’s holding Aleks’ face between both his hands.

_ You almost died,  _ Aleks says in the way he grips with both his own hands at James’ wrists, digging his fingers in until he can feel a pulse.   _ I fucking hate when you do that. _

They move together, James wrapping his arm around Aleks as he settles back into the seat, right up against his side this time. The hand James’ places on the crown of Aleks’ head, the way he brushes his fingers through his hair, says  _ I love you, I love you and we’re fine, we’re both alive.  _ And he’s right, but it still stings even as it’s soft between them in the way James touches him. 

The heat between them is enough to warm Aleks’ cold arms and James falls asleep from one moment to the next, his breathing deep and even.  Brett drives, holding Lindsey’s hand, on a straight, dark road, and Aleks knows what to do with his hands. They fit with James’, fingers laced, palms pressed together.  His heart calms down and he knows where to look, out into the night, to the black horizon, where there’s no difference between the ground and the sky. 

Wherever they’re going they’ll get there.  They’re still alive.


End file.
